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Michael nods. “Of course.”
“I don’t want all the big party and fuss. Just us, saying our vows.”
“It’s your big day, it’s your choice.”
“Can we do it today? Obviously, when it’s daylight,” I say, adding a nervous smile.
“Are you sure? These things usually take a little working out. I’m sure Albert can sort a licence, but you know I’d usually ask you to attend a few services and—”
“Michael, we both know I’m not a believer. If God was real, he would have taken me out by now. I just want to be Albert’s wife. Make it happen. Please.”
He gives a small laugh again and shakes his head. “Fine. I’ll talk to Mav and make the arrangements. Let’s say noon?”
I kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
Chapter Eighteen
ALBERT
I’m awoken with a painfully hard erection, and before I can register what’s going on, Rosey is sinking down onto it. “Fuck,” I groan. “Good night?”
“The best,” she whispers, leaning down to kiss me.
I slip her bra straps down her shoulders and admire her perfect body as she rides me. “You’re cold,” I whisper, running my fingers down her chest and over her breasts.
“Marry me,” she pants, moving faster.
“Name a day and time and I’ll be there,” I say, gripping her hips and thrusting up to chase my release.
She shudders, moaning as she comes. “Today at noon,” she whispers, falling over my chest.
I spin us around so she’s under me and continue to fuck her. “Are you drunk?”
“A little.”
“We can’t organise a wedding in a few hours, baby,” I whisper, kissing her. I come hard, thrusting my release deep into her.
“I’ve got the vicar sorted,” she says, smirking.
I frown. “You’re serious?” She nods, and I laugh, burying my face in the crook of her neck and inhaling her scent. “You’re crazy,” I mutter, nipping her soft skin. “What’s brought this on?”
“I love you,” she says simply. “There’s no one else for me, just you. If you’ll have me?”
I pull her into my side and hold her. “I’m never letting you go.”
Everyone looks at me like we’ve lost the plot. “We don’t have time to question Rosey’s state of mind right now,” says Mav, grinning. “We have a wedding to organise.”
“She doesn’t want a fuss. Just some chairs so you can watch the service, and no wedding reception,” I add.
“We’re having a wedding reception,” snaps Meli, and Arthur takes her hand.
“This isn’t about us, baby. Rosey wants simple, do simple.”
She scowls. “I don’t know how.”
I take Meli by the shoulders. “How about we set up the chairs outside and you go and find my beautiful bride-to-be and help her with hair and makeup?” She looks slightly more appeased as she heads off. I turn back to Arthur. “Right, organise the chairs, I need to head back to the house to speak to Ollie.”
“Now you’re my fucking boss?” he complains.
